


To Feel Something, Anything...

by Gummie88



Category: Free!
Genre: Absent Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Self-Harm, Soulmate AU, Soulmate AU where injuries show up on your soulmate, graphic but not like... SUPER graphic, graphic depiction of self-harm, graphic enough to be uncomfy definitely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 04:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16906245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gummie88/pseuds/Gummie88
Summary: To find your soulmate, one must always be checking themselves over. Every cut, bruise, or burn will appear in the same place on your soulmate's body as well.Haru has always found this fact silly, not really caring about having a soulmate. He has his friends, and that's all he needs.Though if that's the case... then why does he feel so numb?





	To Feel Something, Anything...

**Author's Note:**

> This is very loosely based off of a soulmate AU by my friend [benicemurphy!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy/pseuds/benicemurphy) Check out her AO3 she has other amazing MakoHaru stories :)
> 
> I have no idea if she wanted this idea to be so graphic and angsty, so I hope she likes it anyway if she decides to read. Like I said it's very loosely based off of her idea and I took a lot of liberties with it.
> 
> Also, please note the tags. If depression and self-harm are triggering for you I'd advise to skip this fic. There are semi-graphic depictions of self-harm in this fic that could be very uncomfortable for a lot of people. 
> 
> With that, I hope you enjoy the story~
> 
> EDIT: Went through and fixed some typos, hopefully I got em all.

Haruka Nanase has always found the whole “soulmate” thing silly. As he grew up and transitioned in to elementary school with his peers, it was all the talk on the playground. So far at their age, they’ve distantly heard about it, but nothing in detail. It was common that when they would enter middle school and hit puberty is when they would see the signs.

The black-haired boy remembers being crowded into an auditorium, sitting next to his best friend Makoto anxiously as the adults waited for everyone to settle down to begin their presentation. What followed was the most confusing and awkward 30 minutes of his entire life. He listened to the teachers explain these so–called “soulmates” and how they identify each other: through injuries. They explained how if you begin noticing scars or bruises from injuries you know were not done by you, there may be a good chance that you have a soulmate. So many questions ran through Haru’s head immediately. Would the other person bleed due to an injury? What about broken bones? Pains such as headaches and stomach aches? What if your supposed soulmate dies?

To the presenter’s defense, they did a good job explaining without completely scarring the young children. They eased them by informing that external injuries only affect the soulmate such as cuts and bruises and the other person will not feel that pain. They were also told that some people may never find their soulmate, and that’s okay. There are many happy couples who have met through more organic ways, not too worried about searching the world to _maybe_ find that special someone.

By that point, the room had erupted into loud chatter and talking amongst the students. Haru felt disconnected from his body for a second, everything a muffled sludge. Next to him, he felt Makoto tap his shoulder. He blinked, brought back to the present, blue eyes meeting his.

“Haru-chan, have you noticed anything?” Unlike Haru, Makoto seemed excited, full of wonder at the information presented to them. He just doesn’t understand.

“No.” He said honestly.

“Me either…” The brunet slumped back into his seat.

While he didn’t say anything else, there was no doubt in his mind that Makoto would have a soulmate someday.

\--

When Haru walked home that night, the small boy was surprised to walk into the house and see the kitchen light on and the sound of his parents talking within. Discarding his shoes and backpack at the threshold, he peeked around the door frame into the room, seeing his mother at the table with a cup of coffee and his father cooking over the stove. His mother saw him first, sitting up and smiling. “Haru, honey, welcome home.” She greeted.

Then his dad turned away from his pan, also smiling at his son. “How was school?”

“Fine.” He mumbled, venturing further into the room and sitting in the chair across from his mother. “Are you guys home from your business trip?” He asked before thinking, unable to keep the hopefulness from his voice.

Both of their expressions fell at the same time, glancing wearily at each other. Haru’s dad cleared his throat before answering. “Actually, Haruka, your mother and I are leaving early tomorrow for Tokyo… We wanted to stop and see you tonight though, at least.”

“… oh, okay.” He managed to keep his voice even as his eyes shifted down to the clean table top. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

There was a few seconds of painful silence. “Well, what did you learn at school today?” Mrs. Nanase attempted to distract from the tense air.

Haru knew what she was doing and yet he didn’t have the energy to be upset anymore. At first, his mind blanked as he tried to remember what even happened that day. When the events caught up to him, he responded. “We learned about soulmates today.”

Both his mother and father paused, staring at him in some sort of shock. The boy’s blue eyes uneasily looked between them, not sure why they weren’t saying anything. “Um…” Mr. Nanase began, suddenly remembering not to let the food burn. “Do you… have any questions about it that we can clarify for you?”

Haru thought for a second. “Are you two soulmates?”

Another silence followed, this time even worse than the first. Even though his dad was the one who offered his knowledge, it was almost like he pretended not to hear him. He flipped the fish in the pan. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife.

“… No, honey, we’re not.” His mother said softly, brushing her long, beautiful hair away from her face. “But there’s nothing wrong with that. We both love each other and we have you, I couldn’t ask for anything else.

A million contradictions ran through Haru’s tired mind, like, if they cared about him so much, why are they never home? Not that Haru disliked living with his grandmother, he just missed his parents. Even though they aren’t soulmates he knows they don’t get along. The few nights they were home were spent fighting and Haru knows he’s the main cause of them. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like if you found your soulmates instead?”

Now their dinner was done cooking and Mr. Nanase served them their mackerel, still avoiding eye contact with either of them. “No, I haven’t because I’m happy.” Haru’s mother nodded in agreement.

Even as an elementary schooler Haru knew that was a big fat lie.

“Listen, Haruka,” His father said once he sat down at the table with them, “Don’t let this silly soulmate idea get in the way of your life, most importantly your career path. If you meet them then that’s great, but don’t let that consume your life. You can find happiness without that person, too.”

Even though Haru pretty much agreed with what his father said, there was still an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Okay…” He mumbled, picking up his chopsticks.

“Who knows? Sometimes people don’t even have soulmates, and that’s okay. Just be prepared for that.”

That only made him feel worse for some reason.

Mr. Nanase tried to lighten the mood by exhaling a loud breath and giving him a fake smile. “Enough of that for now. Itadakimasu.” He muttered, taking a small bite of his food.

Haru didn’t bring up the subject to them again.

\--

As Haru went through elementary school, life didn’t get much better. His parents were even more absent than before and his grandmother started to show her age. Thankfully he did have some things in his life that were constant: Swimming and his friends. When Haru glided through the water, it’s as if everything wrong in his life washed away. The pool was a sacred place, one of community and safety. When Rin rushed towards the starting block with that competitive gleam in his eyes, Haru never felt so alive. When he tapped the wall and Haru was air born, he wasn’t worried about anything that was happening on home. He really did feel free.

\--

When Rin left for Australia, Haru’s world turned upside down. Now, he didn’t enjoy swimming as much as he used to. He still had Makoto and Nagisa, and yet it just wasn’t the same. When they all entered middle school, the soulmate subject came back with a vengeance. Some kids started to notice little cuts and bruises that they didn’t remember getting, but few of them could convince Haru. When he overheard someone gushing about it in the hallways, he unintentionally scowled. It just seemed so silly.

That didn’t stop him from giving himself a good once-over every day, though.

\--

By the time they all transferred into high school, there are no more constants in Haru’s life. The only one left is Makoto. Iwatobi High doesn’t have a swim team, Nagisa is a year behind them and in a different school, and Rin is still gone.

Oh, and his grandmother just died.

She’s been gone for a couple weeks now and the house is painful to be in. It was already quiet before but, with her gone, everything seems almost unbearable. His parents came home for a few days to attend the funeral and make sure Haru was okay. They were gone as quick as they came.

The black-haired boy is completely numb. The only time any feeling returns to his body is when he’s with Makoto, the only light in his gloomy existence. The Tachibanas have been generous enough to let him essentially live there for the past week. It was a welcome distraction, spending more time with Makoto and the twins reminds him of when things weren’t so bad. Haru and Makoto would fall asleep in Makoto’s bed unintentionally, though they never mind. They’ve been doing it since they were kids. Old habits die hard, they guess.

When Haru wakes up early and sees Makoto’s sleeping face tilted towards him, his chest warms with affection. His numb limbs and static mind become overwhelmed with feeling once again. When Haru begins wallowing in self-pity and starts to think for a moment that he’s worthless, he has a vague thought that if someone as good and loveable as Makoto sees him as a friend, maybe Haru himself isn’t so bad.

While he tries to take comfort in this thought, a voice still yells at him that it’s all a delusion and that nothing could redeem his pathetic self.

\--

Haru returns home eventually, as much as he doesn’t want to. He wanted to go quick, though of course every Tachibana tried to talk him out of it. Makoto was easier to convince, he had a better understanding of the situation. As many times as he insists that Haru is never a burden to him or his family, he never likes to feel like he’s imposing. Then there are the twins who hang from his legs and complain that they don’t want Haru-chan to leave. In the most convincing way he could, he told them he’d be back soon.

Getting past Mrs. Tachibana was by far the hardest part. She stood by the front entrance as Haru approached with his bag, arms crossed and worry prominent on her small face. “Haru, are you sure you’re going to be okay?” She asked quietly, stepping aside so he can put his shoes on.

“Yes.” He lied.

She smiled uneasily. “Okay… You know we’re always here for you, right? Whenever you want or need to, you just come over, okay? We love you, you’re practically part of the family.”

His throat suddenly felt tight and he looked down at his feet. Mrs. Tachibana gave him a true smile this time, surging forward to hug him tightly. He didn’t realize how much he’d grown until then since the hug is awkward because of how much taller he is. He loosely returned the embrace. When Mrs. Tachibana pulled back, she still looked at him warmly and gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze. “Okay, I’ll let you go now.” She said and stepped back. Haru could have sworn her eyes looked glassy in the warm yellow light of the house.

He said one final goodbye and stepped onto the street, the comfort of the Tachibana house leaving when the door shut behind him. In one moment, Haru’s on cloud nine, and the next he’s crushed with loneliness all over again.

\--

It’s currently the weekend and he’s done a whole lot of nothing. He hasn’t studied or done any homework, he hasn’t left to swim, and he hasn’t gone to see Makoto, either. He sits around all day, playing video games and spending hours at a time dissociating. He can’t sleep, barely eats… He’s empty.

It’s extremely late at night (what time it is exactly Haru doesn’t care, it doesn’t even matter, really) and he wanders into his bathroom to maybe take a bath. When he leans down to turn on the tap, his head swims and sways when he straightens out. He stumbles on his feet, darting a hand out to catch himself on the wall. He holds his head with the other hand, fisting his fringe tightly to ground himself. With some heavy breathing and a few more seconds, the stabbing pain in his brain slowly subsides and he releases his fist, dropping it to his side. Slowly, he’s brought back to the present. He’s in the bathroom. It’s night time. It’s technically… Sunday, he thinks.

After that particularly intense dizzy spell, Haru isn’t up for a bath anymore. As slowly and carefully as possible, the black-haired boy turns off the tap for the bath, the roaring water stops and douses the room in silence once again.

Haru sighs, walking over to close the toilet lid and sit down on it to take a moment and collect himself. He slouches forward, letting his mind swim and tear itself apart. Even with the pounding in his head, he’s so numb, he’s just so… nothing.

When he lifts his head up and glances over at the sink, his eyes are drawn to the shiny silver razor he had used a couple days ago. He doesn’t have to shave often, not being a particularly hairy person. He’s always seen it as convenient since he’s a swimmer. He’s not exactly sure what compels him, but he picks up the small object, playing with it in his hands. It’s just to give his mind something to focus on. It’s one of those high quality safety razors (a gift from his dad) that are sharp and even hard to shave with at times. Curiously, Haru presses the pad of his finger gently against the sharp edge of the blade. It wasn’t enough to break his skin, though he can tell that if he applied even just a little more pressure, it would have cut his finger.

The thought sends a rush of adrenaline through him.

The feeling is powerful and sudden, startling him out of his current foggy state of mind. Softly, he once again moves the pad of his finger over the blade, vaguely feeling it want to slice through the skin. He swallows thickly, suddenly feeling an intense urge… But an urge to do what? It’s not like he wants to cut himself.

D… Does he?

Haru’s immediate reaction to the dark thought should have been to put down the razor, exit the bathroom, call someone – anyone – so that he could leave the house and clear his head.

That’s what he should have done. What follows would be one of the biggest regrets of his life.

With a shaking hand, Haru turns his arm over so that the expanse of his wrist and forearm are exposed. It’s pale, nearly translucent from the lack of sun he’s been getting. It’s also free of marks, burns, anything.

No soulmate marks. He’s given up on that idea a long time ago.

Haru brings the razor to his wrist, just touching it to his skin first. It’s cold and Haru’s pulse thrums loudly in his ears. Just when he’s going to pull back, that adrenaline from earlier comes back with full force and without even thinking; he presses and moves the blade horizontally along his wrist. He felt it go into the the skin shallowly, startling him with the sharp pain. He puts down the razor to assess the wound, breathing labored like it was earlier.

It had broken skin, but it was a clean slide. Some blood had risen to the surface but it wasn’t enough to actually drip from it, only to raise the cut with a little ridge in irritation.

When the reality of he’s done sets in, the blinding adrenaline is replaced with shame. How is he going to cover this up? He’s going to have to wear jackets and long sleeve shirts until it heals. Thank God they recently transitioned to winter uniforms.

His eyes sting and overflow with tears before he can stop them. It’s the first time he’s cried in years.

\--

On Monday when the bell rings for lunch, Haru and Makoto stay in their classroom and take out their packed lunches. Well… Haru packed a measly lunch and Makoto provided him with a bento his mom made for him. Typical.

“I forgot a drink.” Haru announces, already getting up to find a vending machine.

Makoto nods, opening his bento box to start eating. As he chews quietly, Amakata-sensei walks by and stops. “Makoto-kun, what happened to your wrist?” She points to the small part of his wrist showing over his blazer.

“Hm?” The brunet responds, swallowing his mouthful and assessing the mark in question. It’s a small horizontal scar on his wrist, faint but there. “I don’t know, I don’t remember doing anything.”

Amakata-sensei’s eyes gleam. “Maybe your soulmate got a cat scratch?” She giggles at her own theory.

Makoto barely even registers that she’s still there, mesmerized by the faint mark and running his fingertips over it repeatedly. This is really the first time he’s noticed a serious mark that could be solid evidence of a soulmate. He feels elated. Amakata-sensei goes about her own business, leaving him in awe. His immediate thought is that he wants to tell Haru, but his mind backtracks. The grin falls from his face. He can’t tell Haru. Ever since they were young he hated the idea because he was so convinced he would never have one. Makoto doesn’t really know why Haru has such a resentment towards the concept and he’s settled for just never bringing it up unless completely necessary. He’ll keep the mark a secret, which shouldn’t be hard. Even though the mark is in a rather… odd place, he remains optimistic.

When Haru returns from the vending machine, he doesn’t bring it up.

\--

The next time Haru self-harms, it’s exactly two weeks since the first time.

He realizes that the wrist is a really bad place. He was constantly worried about people seeing it and asking something about it. Thankfully that hasn’t happened and the initial angry red mark has faded to a faint pink. Even after the sheer amount of immense shame and guilt he felt after the first time, a small, intense urge won’t leave him.

He’s tired of being numb, he wants to feel something, anything, and if it has to be pain, then so be it.

That’s how he ended up in this position again, sitting on the toilet lid, fluorescent lights of the bathroom humming lowly with energy. He found an individual razor in one of his drawers and now he holds it in his fingers, flipping it around and playing with it for a moment. He knows he can’t mark his wrists so… what now?

His faded blue eyes fall down to his thighs. He’s wearing loose sleep shorts that graze the tops of his knees. With nimble fingers he grabs the hem of a pant leg, slowly lifting it up to expose the milky expanse of his upper thigh. Usually his tone is more muscular but with the absence of swimming, he hasn’t been in top shape.

As if his body’s on autopilot, the razor goes down to the skin and he pauses, that rush of adrenaline cold like ice in his vein. Like before, he feels a bout of bravery, pressing the sharp object down and slices it to the left a little more slowly than when he did his wrist. The initial sharp pain isn’t as bad on the surface of his thigh, though Haru knows instantly that he cut deeper than before.

He pulls the razor away, watching with dull interest as blood pools to the wound and stays there for a moment, not quite enough to run off the sides of his legs.

Haru’s transfixed by it, staring and staring. There’s a high-pitched ringing in his ears as the edges of his vision blurs, the bloody cut the only thing in forcus. It looks pretty against the white skin of his thigh, Haru thinks distantly.

When semi-normal senses return to him, he cleans the cut the best he can and reaches for the razor again.

\--

Makoto wakes up that next morning, a loud yawn overtaking his whole body as he stretches his arms high above his head. As he slowly becomes accustomed to being conscious, he enters the bathroom and clicks the door shut behind him. Naturally, the backstroke swimmer turns on the tap to the shower and begins stripping off his clothes. As he slides his sleep shorts off, even without his contact lenses in he notices something on his thighs. He squints, trying to get his blurry eyes to focus on the horizontal marks. He reaches over to the bathroom counter, finding his glasses in their case and slipping the black frames onto his nose. His surroundings become clear and he looks down at his legs, his heart sinking.

Two to three horizontal lines are placed sporadically on both upper thighs.

Like the marks that showed up on his wrist, they’re not actually wounds. They’re smooth and almost like tattoos on his skin. When he glances between his wrist and thighs, the pieces slow fall into place. These marks were obviously not made by him, so… he has to have a soulmate.

And it seems like his soulmate is self-harming.

Makoto can’t really think of any other reason why these obvious marks would be showing up in these conspicuous places. This new tidbit of information completely turns around the happiness Makoto felt those couple weeks ago when he realized he even had a soulmate. The worst part is that Makoto’s completely powerless. He doesn’t know their name, their gender, or even where they live. They could be all the way across the world for all he knows.

The brunet finds it hard to take his eyes off the marks as he showers.

\--

Winter creeps upon Iwatobi, blanketing the small ocean town in crystal white snow. Life continues like normal… sort of.

The marks keep appearing on Makoto’s legs. Sometimes it’s one for two weeks, and other times four or five will appear in the span of three days. Always on the weekends, the brunet notes with a sense of sadness.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, something’s wrong with Haru.

He’s… known for a long time, even before his grandmother died. It’s not exactly a secret anymore that Haru’s relationship with his parents has never been great. That’s why the Tachibanas have always assured him that their home is his home as well.

Even though they spend about the same amount of time together, there are little things that just feel different. The most obvious being that he doesn’t stay the night much anymore, and when he does, he seems to… avoid him, somehow? It’s hard to describe. Since they were kids, they’ve always done things together with no second though. For example, they’ve just always shared the same bed. Sure, Makoto always drags out the futon but it’s just out of habit at this point. He doesn’t know why but he’s just extremely confused when the other decides to sleep on it one night. Makoto doesn’t say anything about it, only the typical good night’s they exchange before going to sleep.

He’ll never admit that he doesn’t like the change; he’s always liked sleeping in the same bed as Haru. There had always been a thought in the back of his head that when they were old enough they should stop doing it, he just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

\--

A week later, another mark appears on his thigh. He hates it. He hates it so much. His heart feels so heavy knowing that someone out there can be in so much pain.

One brisk Sunday, Makoto ventures out of his room, his feet padding on the soft carpet towards the living room. Both of the twins went to stay at a friend’s the night before and they haven’t come back yet, so the house is uncharacteristically quiet. He pokes his head into the living room, seeing his mother on the couch, cozy with a book and cup of coffee on the side table.

The brunet mentally takes a breath before entering the room. “Hey, mom?” He calls out.

The older woman glances up from her book at her son. “Yes?”

“Um…” He bites his lip, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Tachibana realizes that this isn’t a normal interaction, she sits up straight and puts a bookmark between the pages. “Of course, Mako, sit down.”

He mumbles a thanks and sits next to her. Immediately his mother knows something is wrong. He looks exhausted and deeply worried about something. “Mako, honey, what’s wrong?” She asks softly.

It still takes him a second to collect his thoughts before he can speak. “So… marks have been showing up on me, lately.”

“You mean _those_ marks?” She clarifies.

He nods and swallows thickly.

“Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

“It _should_ …” He sighs, “But they’re not… they’re not good marks. They’re so bad.” His voice cracks on the last word.

Now she’s genuinely confused and places a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “What do you mean?”

“They’re just not good… it looks like-“ He can barely form the end of the sentence, “I-It looks like they cut themselves.”

He’s so quiet and the last words hang in the air for too long. “Cut themselves…?” Mrs. Tachibana repeats just as quietly.

Makoto holds out his arm with the wrist up, showing her the horizontal mark there. She curiously moves her hand from his shoulder and runs her fingertips over it. “This is the first mark that showed up a little over a month ago and I thought it was just a scratch or something, but now… marks like this have been showing up all over my thighs. There’s just no way they’re a coincidence anymore.”

“Oh, Mako…” His mother breathes in shock.

“I know there’s nothing I can do about it, but” His voice cracks again and he has to clear his throat so that the emotion in his voice doesn’t come through as much. “It just hurts so much to know someone is so sad, especially when that person is my soulmate.”

His mother leans forward and hugs him tightly and for the first time in years he clings onto her like he’s a little boy again. While it’s know that Makoto can be a fairly sensitive guy, he rarely cries, and even now he finds himself holding himself back so the tears won’t spill over. “Shh, it’s okay…” She soothes him. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

He shakes his head. “I was going to tell Haru, but you know how much he hates the soulmate stuff. I didn’t want to make him upset.”

She nods in understanding. “I’m glad you told me, it hurts to see you so sad, but… there really isn’t much you can do. Just know that whoever they are, they’re going to make it through whatever they’re struggling with. In the meantime make sure you’re taking care of _your_ mental health too, okay?”

“Yeah,” He exhales a big breath and some of the tension leaves with it. “Thanks, mom…”

“You’re welcome,” She gives him one final hug, “Do you want me to make you something? Food? A cup of coffee?”

“Coffee sounds perfect.”

\--

That next Monday during lunch, Makoto finds himself eavesdropping on a conversation between two classmates in front of him. Tanaka had just started dating a girl from the next class over and will blab about it to anyone who’s willing to listen. His unfortunate victim today is Mishima.

“Things are just going so well, y’know? It’s like we’ve known each other for years, it’s so weird.” He blows a bubble from his gum and pops it. “You think she could be my soulmate?”

Mishima hums absently. “I dunno, maybe.”

“I just wish there was a way to find out, y’know? I’ve never gotten any obvious scratches or scars growing up so it’s hard to tell. Would it be crazy if I just, like, made a little mark on my arm or something? Nothing crazy, just enough so that I could find out for sure.”

Those words make Makoto’s entire body freeze and he stares down into his bento uneasily. Even though he’s not looking, Haru also hears but just keeps eating, eyes dull and movements robotic.

“Yo, Tachibana-san, what do you think?” Tanaka calls out to him loudly, turning in his seat.

 _No no no no…_ Alarm bells go off in his head.

“Have you ever done something like that to find your soulmate?” The other presses.

His jaw clenches angrily. “No, I haven’t _harmed myself_ for my soulmate, and you shouldn’t either. That’s ridiculous and not funny at all.” His voice was louder than intended, startling Tanaka.

Next to him, Haru stares at him in shock. He’s maybe heard Makoto get angry and raise his voice a total of three times in his life and never at a classmate.

“Damn alright, chill…” Tanaka mumbles in response, turning back around to end the confrontation.

Makoto’s face softens into one of regret, dropping his chopsticks and starting to stand.

“Makoto-“ Haru calls out and rises to his feet.

“I’m sorry, I just,” He sighs, “That really bothered me. I need to step out and get some air.”

Haru wants to stop him and ask why but the brunet’s already out the door and down the hall.

\--

It’s a Thursday afternoon and Makoto really should be studying for winter exams, he really should. Instead, he trudges through freshly fallen snow, his boots making a satisfying crunch with each step. His breath comes out in visible puffs as he climbs the outdoor staircase, careful to not fall. He reaches the top of the hill and Haru’s house comes into view. Something about it gives off a negative aura.

Removing a glove, he knocks on the door and waits. This visit wasn’t planned, but he needs to talk to someone, anyone else about what’s been going on. He still hasn’t given Haru an explanation for Monday and even though talking to his mother helped, he needs to tell Haru. He doesn’t even care if it involves soulmates anymore.

It takes a minute but eventually he hears the door unlock and it opens slightly, Haru’s face looking out onto the porch. “Makoto?” He says, opening the door more when he sees it’s his friend.

“Hey, sorry I came unannounced, but… I need to talk to you about something.”

“Oh,” He looks caught off guard which is fair. He steps aside to let Makoto inside. “Come in.” He invites.

Makoto says thank you and comes inside, starting to shed his warm layers and leave them by his shoes. Honestly, it barely looks like anyone even lives here. It’s cold and dark inside. He notes that they should go to the store soon and get some festive decorations to liven the place up.

When they walk into the living room and get comfortable on the couch, Haru watches him curiously. “What’s up?”

“Well… do you remember what happened on Monday? With Tanaka?”

“Yeah…” Haru’s entire body tenses up like a deer in headlights. He just wants to forget that ever happened. Suddenly his thighs feel itchy.

“I just thought I owed you an explanation for that.”

As much as Haru doesn’t want this conversation to happen, he is curious.

“I’ve been noticing soulmate marks on me, lately.” He comes right out with it.

Haru’s heart shatters, his livelihood leaving his body. “Oh…” He turns away from the brunet, not even wanting to make eye contact with him.

“No Haru listen,” Makoto begs, clasping Haru’s arm to get him to pay attention. “It’s not what you think-“

“What else would it be?” He interrupts, raising his voice, “You were obviously upset that Tanaka was talking about the idea of a soulmate so carelessly. You’ve always liked the idea of soulmates and that you’d have one-“

“Why does that make you so upset?” Makoto asks, eyebrows furrowed together with confusion at his friend’s outburst.

“Because I-“ _I don’t want you to leave me? Because you’re the only good thing in my worthless existence? Because I love you?_  “I… Don’t know.” He says instead and shuts down.

“Haru, please, listen to me… It’s really not a good thing. I-I’ve only told my mom about it because I know that that concept makes you upset but I just really need to tell someone else about it.” His voice cracks pathetically, “Because I trust you the most out of anyone.”

Haru waits in anticipation.

“These marks… they’re worrying.” Makoto begins when he’s sure he has Haru’s attention. “Look,” He pulls up the sleeve of his jacket and exposes his wrist, showing the thin mark there. “This was the first one to show up, but now… they’ve showed up all over my legs. My thighs, specifically. I-I think this person is self-harming and I just don’t know what to do…”

Whatever Makoto says next, Haru doesn’t even hear him. His eyes stare at the mark on his wrist, his whole world crashing around him. I-It couldn’t be, could it…? He doesn’t want to believe it, _can’t_ believe it. The same place, the same arm, it has to be.

“… aru? Haru!”

The black-haired boy snaps out of his trance, meeting Makoto’s gaze.

“Are you okay? I-I’m sorry, I know this is a lot and it’s a heavy subject but I just needed to tell you because it’s been bothering me.”

Haru still refuses to say a word and as if his body isn’t his own, he moves his arm slowly towards Makoto, pulling down the sleeve and exposing the now pink scar. He holds it next to the brunet’s arm and waits for a reaction.

“I… what?” He responds with his mouth agape. “I don’t… I don’t understand, Haru. What is this?” His voice raises an octave in panic.

“The same.” He whipsers hopelessly.

“N-No, it can’t be the same, i-it’s just a coincidence, I just said they’re all over my thighs too and-“

“The same.” He whispers again with the same inflection.

Each second of silence that follows stabs him repeatedly in the gut. He uses his black fringe to cover his eyes and pulls his sleeve back up. He feels like he’s going to throw up.

“No…” Makoto repeats after a moment. “H-Haru, you mean-“ A tentative hand reaches out and brushes against the top of his thigh.

Haru hisses in pain and flinches away.

“Wh-What…” Tears begin to pour from Makoto’s eyes at the realization. He can’t even begin to stop them as they stream down like literal rivers. “Why…?”

“I’m sorry…” He can’t even move, can’t even turn his head to face Makoto. He can hear him crying and the healing cuts on his legs burn.

“But why?” The brunet repeats desperately.

“I don’t know…”

“Haru seriously! I mean- What? Oh God…!-“ The backstroke swimmer leans over and embraces him so tightly that it’s hard to breathe. He continues to shake and cry into Haru’s shoulder.

Like a few weeks ago, Haru’s eyes begin to sting with oncoming tears when he sees Makoto so upset. The occasion of finding your soulmate should be one of happiness and excitement, but Haru’s realization has been tarnished with this ugly secret he’s had for too long. Ever since they were kids Haru didn’t want to have a soulmate, or at least that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. Eventually he knew that he simply wanted that person to be Makoto, the one that makes him truly happy.

And yet he’s only given the brunet pain in return. In Haru’s selfishness and ignorance he marked his soulmate in ugly scars and caused him so much unease, he really is truly worthless.

Through his dark thoughts, something compels him to cling onto his friend as if he’ll disappear any second. Haru even sheds a few tears into Makoto’s shoulder as well. They hold each other desperately for what feels like hours, not even knowing what to do.

“Will you please tell me why, Haru-chan?” His friend whispers brokenly. He stopped crying at this point but he won’t let him go still.

Haru doesn’t even know what to say.

Makoto took that as an answer in itself. “You don’t have to tell me now, but… do you promise that you will eventually?”

Haru nods and that’s good enough for now.

\--

Haru practically moves into the Tachibana house after that. Makoto excused himself for a second to call his mom and quietly explain that Haru would be staying with them for an undetermined amount of time. She could hear from his tone of voice that she shouldn’t even ask why.

Haru was dreading going there because he knew Makoto would interrogate him about the self-harm. In reality, to his shock, that’s not what happened at all.

In fact, he didn’t bring it up once.

They lived like normal other than the fact that Haru’s visit was extended. His friend had gently reminded him that he didn’t have to go to school for a day or two if he wasn’t feeling up to it. While grateful for the offer, he said that he’d rather go, both for a distraction and to not get behind in his academics.

They went through the next few days like they’d always had: studying, playing video games, spending time with the twins, making an occasional trip out for food or to the arcade. For a while, Haru just considered not even bringing it up ever again, to just let it die in his ugly past.

But that would be a disservice to Makoto.

Even though he goes through every day with minimal difference, sometimes Haru catches him deep in thought, worried and troubled about Haru, no doubt.

It was almost winter exams and the two had been holed away in Makoto’s room all day, intensely studying. From outside they could hear Christmas music drifting through the house and a laugh from someone in the family every few minutes. As much as they want to join everyone, they agreed they need to at least finish their English first. Makoto sits at his desk, wearing a maroon sweater with his glasses on. His brows are pulled together in concentration as he reads the text book. _He looks handsome_ , Haru thinks affectionately.

As for him, he’d lost interest a while ago. He really isn’t feeling the studying. As his mind wanders, he always goes back to that day. The hurt in Makoto’s face, his shaking body as he cried, the desperate tone in his voice as he begged for an explanation. He never got one, and Haru knows he deserves it.

“Hey, Makoto?” He says hesitantly.

“Yeah?” The other doesn’t look up from his book yet.

“We need to talk.”

Makoto stops reading, turning around in his chair to face him. “About…?”

Haru swallows, looking away from him. “You know what.”

“Oh…” He moves so that he’s now sitting on the floor next to him. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to-“

“No, you need to know. I can’t avoid it forever.” His voice is firm. He knows it’s time.

Makoto nods and Haru takes a deep breath. “I… Don’t know why I started doing it. I just gave into an impulsive thought. I swore I wasn’t going to do it again because I was… really ashamed.” That bit of information was hard for him to admit and he stares at his hands in his lap. “But it also made me feel something, and I liked that.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto dares to ask.

“It’s just… Rin left, my Grandma died, we stopped swimming, and my parents are never around. I’m just numb all the time and that made me feel something whenever I did it… I knew it was wrong but I got addicted to the feeling.”

Next to him, Makoto listens to every word he says and everything starts to make sense. He tries to discreetly wipe his eyes and sniffs but Haru catches on. “Makoto don’t cry-“

“I’m sorry,” The brunet interrupts and sniffs again, “I just knew s-something was wrong – _has_ to be wrong – b-but I didn’t _say_ anything when I should’ve. I knew you were suffering and I just did _nothing!_ ”

“None of this is your fault!” Haru interrupts sternly.

“I’m sorry… I just wish I could’ve done more, is all.” Makoto ends miserably.

“You’ve done so much for me Makoto, you’re…” He swallows. “You have no idea how much you mean to me and how much you help me.”

“I’ll always be here, Haru. How have you been feeling… lately?” He asks, almost afraid of hearing the answer.

“Being here with you helps, but… I don’t want to go back home, I hate that house, but I know I can’t stay here with you forever.”

Makoto knows this is true no matter how much he wants to refute it. “Then we’ll just have to find ways to help you get better.”

Haru stares at him blankly. “How…?”

“Well… you said that you want to feel something, right? What are things that make you feel good?”

 _You_ , Haru wants to say, but that would put too much pressure on him. He thinks of something else. “Swimming.” He mumbles quietly.

“Then we’ll swim more, starting tomorrow.”

That causes the ghost of a smile to grace Haru’s features. It’s the first time Makoto has seen him smile in months. “Anything else?” He presses on.

It’s been so long since Haru has even given any thought to his hobbies that he’s having a hard time recollecting them. “Drawing, I guess.”

“We’ll go to the art supply store soon.”

“Cooking, too.”

“You can ask my mom if you can make meals for the family.”

“… I’d like that.” Haru responds, warmth spreading through his chest. It makes Makoto’s heart soar.

“Anything else?” He encourages, actually getting excited by the thought of rejuvenating Haru again.

“… You.” He finally admits.

“Huh…?”

“You make me happy, Makoto.”

The other smiles and even from Haru’s peripheral vision he can see the blush crawl up his neck. “You know, Haru… I’d always hoped we’d be soulmates.”

The words shock him and he stares at Makoto with his mouth agape. “Really?”

“Of course! We’ve grown up together, we’re best friends, and I… I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.”

Like Haru’s situation, they also hadn’t brought up the soulmate thing since that night either. Haru was beginning to think that Makoto didn’t really feel that way towards him. It was a devastating idea that seemed like a reality the longer they went without bringing it up.

He certainly wasn’t expecting this. His pulse raced beneath his skin. “… I think you know how I feel about you already.”

That makes Makoto laugh slightly and he scoots closer to the other, snaking his arm around to rest his hand on the curve of Haru’s waist. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Naturally, Haru leans into the embrace, leaning back on Makoto’s broad shoulder and simply allows himself to be held. It’s what he wanted for so long and he’s overwhelmed with happiness that he’s not even sure if anything is real. Makoto is warm and smells like home.

Their studying is ignored for the rest of the night.

\--

Makoto kept all his promises to Haru. They swam every day they could, invigorating Haru’s passion and love for water while also getting him back into shape. He forgot how satisfied his body could feel after a good work out.

He cooks dinner for the Tachibana family, no matter how hard it was to convince Mrs. Tachibana. He won by insisting that it’s his payment for letting him stay with them. He even draws more, keeping a sketchbook or two around to doodle whenever he gets bored.

He knows that all of this doesn’t necessarily mean he’s healed, no matter how happy he is. Sometimes the former feeling of dread and emptiness looms over him like a cloud threatening to storm, and yet he’s managed to keep the rain away. The best part of course is that he hasn’t relapsed.

Oh, and being with Makoto is amazing, too. Ever since that day, things changed between them. There were more lingering touches, warm embraces, late night cuddling under Makoto’s blankets.

Haru kissed Makoto for the first time on Christmas day under the mistletoe when he was sure no one was looking.

They kiss a lot more after that, naturally, whenever they can. Always alone in Makoto’s room, usually in the early hours of the night when the rest of the house is asleep, they lay close to each other, pushing the limits and exploring new territory that they’ve never encountered before.

The first time Makoto sees Haru’s scars is during one of these intimate moments.

During a particular steamy make out session, the two had shed some of their clothes and without even thinking about it, Haru slides his pants down over his legs, leaving him in only boxers. Makotos’ body leans over him and with the pale moonlight billowing through the window; he sees them, the long healing scars on the top of his thighs. He should’ve just ignored them but he couldn’t stop staring. It takes a second for Haru to realize why his now boyfriend had stopped until it crashed down on him all at once. He instantly feels self-conscious and tries to sit up. “I’m sorry-“

“No, it’s okay.” The brunet insists and leans forward to capture Haru in a kiss and gently lay him down on his back again. “It’s okay.” He repeats, lips brushing against the others. He begins trailing soft kisses down Haru’s body, soothing him back into the mood they were in before. The lower he goes, Haru tries to lift his hips up to signal where he needs it most. The brunet keeps going until his lips find the scars on his thighs. As carefully as he can, he leaves feather light kisses to each scar, giving them all the love and acceptance they deserve.

Some of the arousal and tension from before disappears when Haru realizes what’s happening. He wants to be embarrassed but his heart swells with happiness at the simple gesture. Makoto always knows what to do.

When the last scar is kissed, Makoto sits up to see Haru and gauge his reaction. He gets concerned when he sees Haru’s head turned into the pillow, blushing furiously. “You okay?” He asks quietly.

Haru sighs shakily and nods, moving to wrap his arms around Makoto’s neck and pull him down for a tender kiss. “Thank you…” He whispers and Makoto smiles, resting his forehead against Haru’s lovingly.

\--

Eventually, Haru moves back home.

Makoto is nervous no matter how many times Haru assures him he’s ready. It’ll be weird not being around Makoto all day, but he knows it’s time. His boyfriend offers to help him bring his stuff back, though for some reason, Haru feels like it’s something he needs to do himself. The first thing he does when he gets back is clean. He dusts, mops, washes his sheets and other blankets, anything to make the place feel fresher.

After that’s done, he calls his parents. He’s seen them only a couple times since the event but he hasn’t told them anything that’s happened. He’ll probably never tell them, honestly. That doesn’t mean he can’t try to improve his relationship with them, though. Their conversation is short and leaves Haru feeling better in a weird way in its familiarity.

Overall, it was a long day and the sun’s already setting over Iwatobi. The last thing he does that evening is open all the windows and the big sliding doors to the main room. He knows it’s probably too cold, the snow only just melted recently, but it’s the only thing that feels right to help the house feel more open, more free.

Golden rays of the sunset illuminate the house in both physical and metaphorical light in a place that’s always felt so dark for Haru. The black-haired boy sits on the back porch of the house, legs hanging off the side as he stares up at the pastel clouds. He breathes evenly and distantly realizes that for the first time in forever, he feels okay. He’s rejuvenated, content with his life, not plagued by loneliness. Closing his eyes, the lukewarm breeze rustles his hair, helping him feel like he’s truly in the moment.

All at once, he knows everything’s going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading everyone, please leave kudos if you liked it and PLEASE leave a comment, they motivate me the most!
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr?](http://nagi-chan-san.tumblr.com/)


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